


Nurturing

by bloodandcream



Series: The more the merrier [58]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Cain is mid 40s, Cas is late 30s, Dean is Twenty, Exhibitionism, Felching, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Sam is 16, Sam is a cockslut, Voyeurism, everyone fucks Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 14:04:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6613492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas was back. Naked. No shirt. No shoes. Oh, Dean could bet he’d get serviced. Little bottle in his hand. Set on the table like a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nurturing

Dean accepted the neatly rolled joint, smoke hazy in the air, pinched it between his fingers and took a deep pull. He’d been smoking cigarettes - whenever he could steal them – since he was fifteen. Even if he couldn’t get it as often, he wasn’t a stranger to weed. There were a lot of ways to pay for it that didn’t require forking over the meager cash he needed for groceries and bills.

Sam was wide eyed next to him on the sagging couch. It wasn’t his first time, either. But this was a little… strange.

_I grow it for my arthritis._

Yeah. Sure.

A couple weeks back, Dad had hauled them across a few states and they landed like kicked detritus in a small trailer on a plot of overgrown field in the middle of fucking no where South Georgia. Dean was pretty much the one that paid all the bills, but they still moved where Dad said he needed to go for a ‘job’. Dean figured out a while ago that Dad wasn’t so much moving to places for jobs he could have found anywhere, but was more moving away from places and the mean men that came around with guns asking where John was, sometimes.

Dean didn’t know how long they’d be living in this cramped trailer, but there was land to sprawl around it, woods behind it that he and Sam explored every weekend. Through those woods was a farm, gently rolling fields of swaying corn far as the eye could see. Dean, just past adolescence, and Sam proudly strutting at sixteen years old, they were curious and bored and found a patch of something else hidden between the stalks.

It was for arthritis.

Actually, that might be a valid claim. 'Cause the guy that caught them at gun point and demanded what the hell they were doing on his property, looked fucking ancient.

It was the other one, dark hair and placating hands, that had said they should talk about it. Dean was all for not getting an ass full of buckshot trying to run away.

Lungs full, Dean curled a hand around his brother’s shoulder and pulled him closer, breathing into Sam’s waiting mouth. There was a silly cross-eyed look on Sam’s face when Dean pulled back, passing the joint to the one across the coffee table from him.

Talking. Riiiiiiight.

Two sets of blue eyes watched them as Dean’s arm slid around Sam’s shoulders. Dean tried to remember which one was Cain and which one was Cas. Sitting on matching blue cushioned chairs, the one with long gray streaked hair rolled another joint – Cain – while the one that had invited them in accepted the dwindling joint back from Dean. Cas. Pink lips pursed around it and Dean watched his chest swell under a long sleeved cotton shirt.

Sam was fidgeting.

“So you moved into the trailer on the land behind us?” Cain asked.

Dean answered, “Yeah, couple weeks ago.”

Cas let out a plume, head politely to the side, “How long are you staying?”

“Why?” Sam asked, like the prickly cactus he was, “People don’t like living near you for very long?”

Cain’s laugh was a low rumble, “I know the man that rents out that trailer. He’s an abomination of the human race.”

“It’s uh –“ Dean was trying to concentrate but he was already a little light headed, “Is it anything we should worry about?”

Cas shrugged, “The worst is usually his price.”

Cain lit another joint, leaned across the table to pass to Dean, spoke through the smoke curling over his beard, “But this town is unkind to strangers.”

“We’re not trying to run you off,” Cas probably meant to sound reassuring, but it came across almost predatory.

Dean felt a shiver ripple down his spine as he listened, breathed in smoke that burned his lungs and passed to his brother. “I can take care of us.”

Cain narrowed his eyes, lips curved in a slight smile, “I’m sure you can.”

Sam looked at the two older men, looked at Dean, cherry glowing red half raised to his mouth. Dean smiled at his little brother. Haze behind his eyes and tongue drying out. Sam’s nose wrinkled just a little when he inhaled, chest stuttering like he was suppressing a cough. He held it a beat, passed, exhaled a cloud towards Dean. Breathing it in, Dean leaned back into the curve of the couch and pulled his brother with him.

There were chimes on the porch that tinkled in a breeze, the lace curtains on the windows billowing into the large open room. Books were stacked floor to ceiling along the inner wall, a rough stone fireplace flanked by windows across, the couch and chairs and scuffed coffee table circled in the middle. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. Not much better to do but dig through scraps discarded in the woods behind their trailer, snoop around someone else’s property, accept an invitation – proposition? threat? – from two older gentlemen.

The stuff they grew was potent. Sticky pungent scent clinging to the back of his tongue and his body was already so warm, so loose, from a few passes. Something slowly unspooled inside Dean. That wary little knot of tension that’s always lodged in his gut. The house was cozy and he felt cradled in the couch cushions and the company was nice. There’s an hypnotic quality to both of their voices, deep and low. Somehow, Sam like the dweeb he was, went off on a tangent about local history with Cain. Apparently a Civil War battle was fought in a field not even a few acres over. Sam seemed engaged in the conversation. Curious.

Dean’s more interested in other things. The nimble movements of Cain’s fingers rolling another. Cas’ lips curved around the one that’s almost burnt down, little nub pinched carefully. Their feet were bare. Cas had his legs tucked up underneath him, Cain sprawled. Dean still had his socks on, shoes kicked off at the door at their request. Sam, sock footed too,  slowly leaned against him, just a line of warmth at first, then a pressure, draping himself indolently.

Sam could be cranky and stubborn when he had a mind to be, as unmovable as a donkey. And he could be shameless and bratty when he wanted to be. Dean liked both.

Another round, lull in conversation, Dean let his head fall back against the couch. Neck stretched out. Sam’s hair tickled at his throat. The texture of the ceiling, roughed in the middle in waves like a flower around the hanging bronze light, rippled a little in his vision. Faded in and out with the swelling of the sounds of the world around him.

Sam settled into his lap. One leg slung over, facing Dean now. Joint held carefully away and lips pursed. Dean must have missed the last pass, floated away on his own little thought cloud. Lips parting, he accepted the smoke from Sam’s mouth, one hand curling around his little brother’s waist to pull him closer, tongue lingering wetly when there was only air and spit between them.

The floor boards creaked. Cain took the joint from Sam, retreated back to his chair. Both of Dean’s hands went to Sam’s narrow waist. He was stretching up like a weed lately, all spindly limbed, hands so huge and Dean wondered when the rest would catch up. Belly flat, chest hairless, mouth dirtier than a street corner whore’s. He made Dean proud.

Folding against Dean’s chest, Sam nuzzled into him. Dean pushed his fingers through soft hair, curled at the nape, sweet smelling and silk fine. Sam was trying to grow it out, but it only feathered around his face still apple cheeked with baby fat. Sliding a hand down the bow of Sam’s back, Dean heard something wet and low. Blinking his eyes open, across the table from him and Sam was Cain in his chair, Cas kneeling between his thighs.

Cain was watching Dean. One hand tangled in Cas’ messy hair. Slick squelch of a mouth working down on him. Dean couldn’t see much. He wanted to. Fingers dipping past the hem of Sam’s shirt. Warm skin, bony hips.

“Sammy.”

Red rimmed eyes peered up at him, little tongue poking out the corner of that mouth.

“Sammyyy…..”

Dean patted his hip, pinched his shoulder. Sam shifted in to it. Little gasp of breath, realization. Licked his lips. The room pulsed in time to Dean’s heartbeat and he could hear it like a tide, rising and falling.

Sam shifted up, squirmed on Dean’s lap and one bony elbow got him in the gut. Turned around and planted his back to Dean’s chest, still straddling him, watching. Dean’s hand slid down the flat plane of Sam’s belly to the bulge in his jeans. Sam ground down against the one Dean had. Hard and straining against the fly, baby brother right there.

“Why don’t you show us?”

Cain asked, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. Sam’s little hand found Dean’s, pressed it down harder against the line of his cock.

“So pretty baby boy, wanna show you off.”

“Yeah, De, c’n I, do you think they’d….”

His fingers felt clumsy, fumbling at the button to Sam’s jeans and tugging the zipper down. Sam was all mis matched pieces, hips too narrow, limbs too long, face still round, chest flat, and a fucking monster dick Dean wasn’t sure was done growing. Sam shifted as Dean pushed his jeans to mid thigh. Soft fine hair short over his balls, coming in a little thicker, they pulled up tight when Sam’s cock swelled in Dean’s hand. Enough for two fist fulls.

Cain pulled Cas off his lap.

“Look.”

Pupils wide and lips wet, Cas turned around and looked. A hand between his legs, rubbing, breath panting out heavy. Cain’s hand curved over his skull, spread across his neck.

Dean cupped his hand under Sam’s nuts and squeezed, just a little, in that way that made him whine. One of Sam’s hands clutched at Dean’s forearm, the other reached back to brace on Dean’s waist. Sam rolled his hips, juddery movements, head held high staring across the coffee table. Daring. He liked to be watched. Dean liked it when people watched his little brother. Sam deserved the attention and adoration, he was made for the hungry look in blue eyes as they paused.

Dean tugged Sam’s shirt up, ribs prominent when he twisted around, little pink bud nipples peaked and smattering of moles playing connect the dot down his torso.

“Gonna fuck me, Dean?”

Dean’s hand stilled and squeezed over Sam’s chest, fingertips dragging across a nipple. His other hand went back to Sam’s dick, circled and stroked, on display.

Cain bent forward to murmur something to Cas, Dean couldn’t hear, creak of Sam’s bones and beat of his pulse too loud, body warm and writhing in his lap. Dean felt like a doll with the balls in it’s joints, everything going every which way. Cas stood from the floor, clothes still done up, padded away. Cain, dick in his hand - and jesus what a dick - relaxed in his chair.

“Go on.”

It sounded kind of like a command but more than anything it was goading. Sam bounced in Dean’s lap, riding back against him like his cock wasn’t trapped in his jeans.

“Take it out Dean.”

Yeah, that sounded like a good idea. Yeah. His hands were slow to move from the smooth stretch of Sam’s skin, working open his jeans. Cock twitching in his hand, slotting up nice between the cleft of Sam’s bubble butt. Perky little thing. Pinked up nice with a spanking. Small and narrow and you wouldn’t think anything’d fit. Dean rode his cock along the crack, pressed against the tight little furl, reached one hand from the front between the heat of Sam’s thighs to tease at it.

Cas was back. Naked. No shirt. No shoes. Oh, Dean could bet he’d get serviced. Little bottle in his hand. Set on the table like a challenge. Cas’ cock was ruddy and thick, band of red at the top and brown down to his balls, wild curly hair. He settled between Cain’s lap again. Watched.

It was Sam that leaned forward and snatched the bottle, passed it back to Dean. Kept squirming like a worm on a fish hook waiting to be devoured. Shit. Dean didn’t know where Sam got the energy. He always felt loose and disconnected when he was high, hands lagging after his mind’s decision, dragging over Sam’s skin one more time before he snatched the bottle. Wet on his fingers, dipped between Sam’s legs, two sinking in easy to that tight heat.

Dean could map the progression of his youth on his brother’s body. First kiss in the single digits, skin to skin rutting getting towards tween, just put your mouth on it a little early probably, tasted every part of Sam when he hit double digits, thirteenth birthday the first time Dean got fingers in him, not long after when his dick followed suit. Mile markers. Or something like. In a sick sort of way.

Dean knew it was sick. He’d made peace with that a while ago. The both of them had vagrant feet and empty bellies, growth pains aching in their bones. They took their comforts where they could.

Maybe he corrupted Sam. Maybe he should care more. But Sam begs for it when Dean’s got three fingers twisted up in that willing body, and blue eyes are watching. Dean’s too stretched out in his own skin, pushed against the seams and there’s not enough room. But Sam always makes room for Dean inside himself. Opens wide, takes his brother in, Dean can fill Sam up and break him open. Sam will ask for it. Cry for it.

Slicking his cock, Dean took his fingers out and lined up. Squeezed narrow boy hips, kissed the dip of Sam’s spine.

“Ready baby boy.”

Sam’s nails dug in to his forearm, still clutching, holding on life line. Dean curled his arm around Sam’s waist and pulled him down. Silk heat tight and fluttering. Sam dropping into his lap with little uh-uh’s of effort. Dean’s still got his clothes on and the material pulled across his skin roughly. Pausing, shirt ripped over his head so he can press against the warmth of his brother’s back, Dean got both hands wrapped around that squirming boy.

“Sweetheart.”

“De.”

His voice cracked. It did that a lot lately. Still young and sweet sometimes, digging rougher and Dean wondered where it’d even out.

“Can I?”

Another voice broke in. A rasp, an aching want, an offer. Cas on his knees. Cain smiling behind him. Mouth open, pink maw, straining towards them. Sam reached out for him.

Shuffling around the coffee table and nudging it out of the way, Cas pushed between their thighs. Dean shifted down to accommodate, pulled Sam wider with him. Rough hands settled on his thighs, Cas waiting open mouthed and patient. Sam lay a hand on his head, gentle and sweet like, guided him in. Lean tan back sloped down and Cas shivered as he swallowed Sam. Dean watched over his little brother’s shoulder. Someone else’s mouth wrapped around that pretty cock, red tipped, hard and straight, mole at the base.

Sam’s body seized around Dean when Cas moaned loud enough for both of them to hear it. Rocking his hips up from the couch, Dean fucked into his brother and pushed him forward into a stranger’s mouth and Dean could feel the minute it snapped. Felt as Sam went still and breathless before shuddering full body and sagging against Dean.

Cas swallowed it all. Kept going. Sam groaned and pulled at Cas’ hair. Didn’t matter.

Cain stood and took his shirt off. Broad chest, thick haired. Knelt behind Cas and grabbed the lube. Fucked into him sudden and hard. Dean watched over Sam’s shoulder, Cas’ back curved up then down, up then down, jerking forward towards Sam before relaxing and rolling back against Cain. Christ.

It was so loud. The creak of the couch under him and Dean’s own groaning as he fucked into his brother, Sam’s whining as Cas kept sucking, working his cock up again - could keep it going all night - and the echo of Cain’s hips pounding against Cas. Every noise pulsed out and rippled and fed back, looping, skipping stones on each other one two three and sink, one two three and sink.

Mouthing at the curve of Sam’s shoulder, skin so taut over a body barely contained, Dean bit ringed marks into pale skin and tried to crawl inside Sam as he trembled through his climax. Molded to Sam’s back, he could feel the hummingbird wing pulse of heartbeat and rapid breath against his chest. Sam’s insides a vice around him, pulling squeezing begging him deeper, Dean released as he held Sam close.

Between Sam’s thighs, Cas smiled. Pulled off, Sam’s cock still hard. Kissed, almost tenderly, the insides of slender boy thighs.

“May I?”

Dean had no idea what he was talking about. Sam shifted forward, Dean’s cock slipping out, sticky mess of come and sweat between his legs.

“Please,” almost a whisper.

Dean was trapped between the couch and his brother when Cas nosed down past Sam’s balls and licked at the mess seeping from his hole. Long tongue catching Dean’s balls and softening cock. Shit. Obscene sound of a suck as Cas pushed in. Cain’s hair was wild around his head, mouth parted, fucking in to Cas and watching. Wrapping a thick arm around Cas’ waist, Cain pulled him up. Flailing limbs, Cas almost looked indignant.

Then Cain said, “You should fuck him.”

And Dean felt Sam jerk, lean forward, inhale. The smoke lingered in the air, lazy curls fuzzing the edges of things. Dean loosened his hold on his brother. Sam angled his head back, kissed the underside of Dean’s jaw.

“What do you want baby boy?”

Dean knew the answer.

“Everything.”

Yeah.

Kneeling up, Cas crawled forward. Cain fell back on his heels, cock bouncing up against his stomach, smiled at Dean. Arms circled Sam’s waist and pulled him forward on Dean’s lap. Cas nudged between Dean’s thighs and slid his cock up into Sam’s body with him still pressed between. Dean's release wet inside Sam. Leaking out of him. Fucked back into him by the head of Cas’ cock. Tan arms wrapped around, between Sam’s back and Dean’s chest. The couch was scratchy on his skin. Cock still halfway stiff. But his brother was getting fucked on his lap and every almost pained gasp that eased into a sigh made Dean’s pulse jump.

Cas pushed Sam against Dean, leaned his body weight against them. There was a heaviness in Dean’s limbs. Sated and stretched out, thrumming under his skin. Hands stroking over Sam, Dean mumbled against Sam’s back as his brother was jostled in his lap. Nonsense things. Affection and pride and lust and fear rolled up neat and blended like smoke.

Shouting when he came, Cas fucked so hard into Sam the couch grated backwards on the hardwood floor. Sam still had one hand on Dean, death grip, body quaking through another orgasm. Hand tripping over Sam’s waist, Dean felt it, wet, against that belly where something hard shifted under. Pushed along the limits of his body. Withdrew.

Cas leaned back against Cain. Still stroking himself, still hard. Eyes on Sam.

Kissing the soft spot of his neck, Dean nipped at Sam’s ear. “What do you want baby?”

“More.”

It was said without hesitation as Sam slipped from his lap, jeans pushed over his ankles and away. Cas shuffled over. Cain pulled Sam in. Over strong thighs, spread wide. Hands lifting him, spread across smooth young skin, gaping pink hole dripping white, Dean and Cas both in there. Cain hefted him up, gray hair draping over Sam’s shoulder. Fucked into his sloppy hole, no resistance. Dirty sound of it wet in the sun drenched room. Dean couldn’t stop staring.

A head rested against his thighs. Blue eyes smiling up at him. Cas.

“Your brother is very special.”

“I know.”

Sam moaned jagged sweet sounds, pained, desperate. Dean wondered how many times he’d come, how many more he had left. Cain didn’t go easy. Clutched him close and fucked up into him like a hole was all he was. Stretched wide over that thick cock, white frothing out, Sam’s thighs tense with effort as he clung. The two of them wrapped up in each other and Dean couldn’t look away as Cas lay gentle kisses up to his hip. Shit.

He couldn’t help wondering if his little brother’d be excitedly getting to first base with a girl if Dean hadn’t spoiled him first. He fucking begged for it. Hands digging in to Cain’s shoulder, little bird wing shoulder blades pronounced as he fucked himself down and rode it out. Dean couldn’t look away.

Maybe he wasn’t moving fast enough and maybe everything else was moving too fast for him to keep up, but Sam’s head snapped back as he came again screaming himself hoarse with Cain’s fingers sunk bruising into his skin. Cas, loose limbed and pink cheeked, rested half on Dean half on the floor. Cain let go of Sam.

Reaching for him, Dean pulled his brother back, wondering if he’d let him drift too far. It was all right. Eyes glazed, sweat dripping down his lithe body, Sam giggled sweet and wrapped himself up in Dean’s arms. The chimes were knocking outside.

Cain pushed up into his chair. Pants still round his thighs. Shoved hair out of his face and picked up the stash box to roll another.

Still on the floor, Cas whined needy as he eased closer again. Between Sam and Dean’s thighs, between them both, mouth greedy and wanting. Sam leaned back against Dean and folded his long colt legs over Cas’ shoulders. Wet suck-suck, Cas ate of him, Dean and Cas and Cain all fucked into Sam’s insides, Cas wanted it. Dean could feel Sam quivering, feel the draw of his breath and the tense of his back. Hand trailing down, Dean cupped Sam’s softening cock, his balls, making room for Cas.

There was an exhale, of all of them, rhythmic pulse of the room. Dean held his brother close.

Cain and Cas were actually kind of nice and it surprised him. They offered their shower, which both brothers took up. And when they were done there was a casserole in the oven. Might as well stay. The sun was dipping below the horizon, colors streaking the sky, by the time that Cain and Cas decided they should get back home. Of course, Dean and Sam were welcome back next weekend. Any day they wanted, really. But Sam had school during the week and Dean need to find a job.

They were sent home with a sack full of food. Wrapped sandwiches. Fresh produce. Cookies. It’s a weirdly nurturing gesture after they'd all taken turns fucking Dean’s little brother.


End file.
